


Allure Ξ

by secretGod



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: (almost) drowning, Anal Sex, Aphrodisiacs, Forced Orgasm, Light Horror Elements, Multiple Orgasms, Other, Tentacle Monster - Freeform, Tentacle Rape, Teratophilia, Those Who Slither in the Dark, horror porn, i might add more chapters, non-con, theyre kinda part of this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-27
Updated: 2020-03-27
Packaged: 2021-02-28 22:14:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23340793
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/secretGod/pseuds/secretGod
Summary: Hubert was not unfamiliar with black magic experimentation, and he was not unfamiliar with Those Who Slither in the Dark. But he never could have anticipated what the handwritten spell would do to him.(please read tags!)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 32





	Allure Ξ

**Author's Note:**

> I had a very specific fantasy one day and I had to write it down. Please enjoy.

Hubert checked and double checked he was not followed to his underground study. Even with the moon covered by clouds and the lamps out for the night, he knew the exact route. He checked his back once again before unlocking the door, quickly slipping in, and locking it behind him. With a snap, a flame appeared in his fingers and fluttered around the room to light the lamps.

A large part of Hubert’s investigation into those who slither in the dark was understanding their magic. He had gathered every strange tome he could find and had much more time to investigate them now that Fódlan had been unified. He had accumulated a strange library of ancient books and scrolls, one he kept meticulously organized and locked away in this secret study.

Why then, he wondered, was one on the floor?

A thin, unmarked book lined with dust was sitting face down in the middle of the floor. Hubert’s brow furrowed more than usual.

“Come out, foolish intruder,” he said, weaving a ball of miasma as a readied weapon, “Come and face your fate.”

He paused a moment. Keeping the spell readied and his guard raised, he searched every conceivable hiding place in the study. Other than the stray tome, the room was untouched. Had it really just fallen off the shelf...? And dragged itself across the floor.

Hubert sighed and let the miasma dissipate. He picked up the tome and examined it, letting out a tsk as the dust cling to his gloves. The little red tome was unremarkable from the outside, but it’s pages were lined with a foreign handwritten script. Hubert vaguely recalled acquiring the tome six years ago as a student, but he failed to remember where from. It seemed to have collected dust over the years, but now he recognized the writing as the script used by those who slither in the dark. He had recently become able to decipher some of the language. 

Hubert’s eyes narrowed. Perhaps he could decipher more if the handwriting wasn’t atrocious. 

He was able to pick out a few phrases, aided somewhat by the few drawings (which were slightly less atrocious.) The tome seemed to contain directions for a spell that... “drained and stored life essence from a target?” It required a small ritual, making it too lengthy for the battlefield. But perhaps useful as a interrogation method?

Following the chicken scratch as carefully as he could, he drew the rune circle on the ground, stepped into it, and began the incantation. The spell was targeted at a rose placed before him.

He felt the magic slowly working as he chanted, the circle beneath him lighting up red and the air around him growing warm. Hubert focused and without realizing it put himself in a trance. The light grew brighter, the air warmer until the room was humid and smelled like sea water. He felt an energy creeping up his body from the ground. Part of him wanted to stop, but Hubert only found himself chanting louder. 

He forced his eyes open and his mind awake. He quickly moved to put a hand over his mouth, but something else beat him to it. A thick slimy appendage had woven up his body, around his neck, and now over his mouth. Hubert didn’t have a chance to react before it pulled him straight down into water.

Hubert found himself submerged in darkness, only able to tell his eyes were open when they burned in the salt water. He tried to swim but found his movements were restricted by more strong and slick appendages. They wrapped around his body, some pushing beneath his clothes while he felt others pulling the fabric away. He struggled against them as they kept pulling him down, deeper and deeper. Attempts to hold his breath while panic set in were futile, and Hubert felt salt water enter his lungs. 

Hubert gasped as he was hoisted up above the water, still being groped by the tentacles as he sputtered out water. He seemed to be in a dimly lit cave, but all he could see was the black tentacles binding him and the water only a foot below. He struggled against the tendrils with what strength he could muster, his body still weak from nearly drowning. The more he struggled the more the tentacles flexed and constricted around him like snakes. He tried to cast something, but the tentacles yanked his arms behind him and pulled him back into the dark water. They held him just beneath the surface, his lungs began to burn. He was yanked back up above the surface by less than a foot. He struggled weakly against the tentacles, only to be yanked back below the surface. He tried with all his strength and small remaining oxygen to break free but only to be constricted further. He gasped as he felt air for only a moment, then was sent shouting back below the surface. He was coughing up mouthfuls of water when brought back up. 

“No more! Hn, mercy, please!” Hubert shouted as the surface quickly approached. The tentacles stopped suddenly. 

Perhaps this was torture, but why inflict it upon the caster? Where the tentacles some intelligent creature?

Hubert hung his head, the rest of his body supported by the undulating tentacles. Gasping for air, he felt too weak to struggle anymore. The tendrils constricted even tighter around him, one slowly creeping round his neck. Is this how Hubert von Vestra would die? Naked and writhing in a dark cave?

The slick tendril around his neck creeped around more, forceful but not enough to choke him. It hovered in front of his face for a moment as the others positioned him with his face just above the water, his arms behind his back, ass in the air, and legs spread. Hubert had hardly caught his breath when the slick tentacle forced itself into his open mouth and began writhing against his tongue. The taste of sea water and something sweet and sticky filled his mouth. Hubert tried to bite down on it but the appendage began to swell, pushing his jaw wider and wider. He tried to move his head, his neck, anything, but the tentacles jolted him down towards the water and he stopped. 

The tentacle in his mouth bulged one more time before quickly deflating and it gushed that sweet slick down his throat. It retreated from his mouth and Hubert began to catch his breath again, attempting to spit out as much of the slick as he could. From within him a strange warmth was spreading. He felt even weaker and dizzy and... very, very much aroused.

A tentacle slithered from his leg to go around his balls and the base of his hard cock. He shuddered as something thick pressed against his ass. Hubert didn’t want to let this creature have its way with him, but he found his body sensitive to every touch. Fuck, it felt good. A tentacle wrapped around his dick and squeezed and stroked, and a moan escaped his lips.

“No... no!” Hubert’s voice shook along with his whole body. The tentacles felt like ecstasy against his skin, they teased his chest and groped his ass, engulfing his dick. It seemed to know the perfect way to please him. The thick tentacle pushed into his ass and he became a moaning mess in the creature’s grasp as he came. He felt delirious and hazy, but swore he heard a deep grumble from beneath the surface. 

The tentacles hadn’t given him a moment to recover, still pushing deeper into his ass and stroking his still hard dick. It was all too much. He heard himself moaning, felt his body try to squirm, and begged silently for it all to stop in spite of how good it felt. 

The tendril fucking him kept pushing deeper, swelling to fill him up. It writhed deep within him, pulling his muscles in ways that should have been painful but just sent waves of pleasure through him. It slowly began to retreat, pulling all the way out of him. He felt empty for just a moment before it thrusted deep within him in one motion. The appendage writhed within him as if it were testing his limits. It swelled and the pressure on his prostate brought him to another body shaking orgasm.

Hubert should have been exhausted, should have been aching from the abuse, but all he felt was maddening pleasure. He wanted to plead with the creature for his release, beg it to stop, but only mindless moans came from his mouth. Repeatedly, the creature filled him, grew larger, pulled out, then filled him again. When he felt as though his body could take no more, the tentacles continued writhing within him, continued stroking his oversensitive dick, continued groping every inch of his exposed skin, dragging orgasm after orgasm out of him. Hubert felt lost in the pleasure, unsure of how much time had passed.

The ever thickening tendril thrusted into him in a way that made his head spin as he came. He felt so dizzy, his head pounding, his heart racing, he couldn’t catch his breath. The little light there was was fading....

Hubert awoke and slowly took in his self and his surroundings. He was aching, wet and cold but his clothes dry. Was he clothed? Yes, he could see his gloved hand before his eyes. He looked up to the stone ceiling of his study and mustered up the energy to roll onto his back. He was exhausted and still catching his breath. He sat up and the pounding in his head only got worse. An innocent looking red tome sat on the floor before him in the middle of the magic circle.

Had that been within his mind? If it was psychic trick on his mind, then it was impressively real. Hubert’s body ached inside and out as he rose to his feet and stumbled a few steps over to lean on his desk. He slumped into the chair, pain shooting up his tortured ass. Could a psychic spell really cause this level of pain and exhaustion? He took a few moments to catch his breath, his head still feeling like it was being repeatedly struck with a hammer from the inside. 

He slowly brought himself to his feet and moved towards the door. He needed a bath and pain medicine and sleep badly. He paused at the door knob and looked back. That little red tome...

**Author's Note:**

> Alternative title: Those Who Slither in his Ass
> 
> I have some more ideas about more to this story that get kinda psychosexual, so let me know if you’re interested in seeing more!
> 
> It’s kind of embarrassing to post this as it’s very telling of what I’m into >.> so some feedback would be appreciated


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